By mornayoung, May 4 2015 05:39PM
One of my (many) New Year’s resolutions was to start a playwriting blog. January passed then February and, suddenly, it’s May. How on earth did that happen?
I was recently reminded of my resolution when the Playwrights’ Studio, Scotland asked me to write a ‘year in the life of…’ blog. It’s here in case anyone is interested. As I tried to cram a year’s worth of thoughts into 1000 words, I started to think more about writing my own blog. The usual thoughts popped into my head – will it take up too much time? Do I actually have anything interesting to say? How do you go about managing a blog? Will anyone bother to read it?
Helpfully, my website has a nice little button that says ‘blog’ on there so that seemed like a pretty good place to start. As for the other questions… well, I guess I can only wait and see.
I’ll be honest, I’m still not entirely sure what “blogging” is. Forgive me for perhaps sounding like a Granny but, hey, technology isn’t really my forte. I actually googled it this afternoon before writing this (sad but true). Do you want to know what the definition is?
A blog (a truncation of the expression weblog) is a discussion or informational site published on the World Wide Web and consisting of discrete entries ("posts").
Nothing too shocking there although, I admit, I initially read “discrete” as “discreet”… (probably not a bad tip to remember).
Blogging makes me think about diary writing. Do people still keep hardcopy diaries? I was obsessed with mine. I’d read Anne Frank and Adrian Mole and that was enough for me to write angst driven entries for years. Sometimes, I wrote in a “literary” voice as if I thought someone, someday would read my ramblings and publish them. Most of the time, however, I spilled out my teen driven hopes and dreams and fears and hates. I wrote about guys that I fancied and girls that I envied. Those are both things that I DON’T want to write about on here… and, if I do, someone drag me away from the computer (please). I burned my journals when I was eighteen, suddenly scared that someone might find them one day. It sounds like a cathartic ritual but was more like a clean up of any evidence.
Much later in life, I wrote an arts / lifestyle column for a local paper up north. I eventually gave it up as I didn’t have enough time. I was writing Lost at Sea (my first play) and I had to prioritise. Plus, I had locked myself away in a little cottage so didn’t particularly have anything interesting to say about arts or lifestyle. I was living in my pyjamas, writing screeds and occasionally watching Doctor Who… possibly not the best existence to advocate. My column writing days don’t seem a million miles away from blogging, though. Except, for my column, I always chose a theme. And I had an editor (damn, I wish I had one of those now…).
So what do I want to write about? Theatre. Writing. Feminism. About being an early career playwright and embracing the slightly mad lifestyle that accompanies this. That’s the plan anyway. Maybe it’ll be like writing the column. Maybe it’ll be like a (discreet) diary. We’ll see.
Happy first blog. Now, I wonder if I’ll manage to post this…